


How Did She Die?

by luvtheheaven



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Gen, I created fanart for the story/podfic too, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvtheheaven/pseuds/luvtheheaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Haley Hotchner's death has to be told multiple times, over the years. Focuses on Hotch and his son Jack, along with the people closest to them. Time always jumps a number of years between chapters. My first foray into writing for the Criminal Minds fandom. I hope you all enjoy it. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2009

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out the[ podfic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5591770) I later made for this story, if you can. (A podfic is like an audiobook for a fanfiction story.)

 

Aaron Hotchner vaguely felt someone’s arms pulling him away from George Foyet’s body. The man was clearly dead now. Beyond dead. ‘Overkill’ is what they, as profilers, always called what he had just done, and Aaron let that register somewhere in the back of his mind. He was now sobbing hysterically, letting all emotion overcome him – Foyet had killed Haley, and he was feeling the grief from that so completely, now that he had lost the living target at which he could direct his rage. Foyet had done more than that, though. As if killing Haley wasn’t enough, he’d had to do it _here_ , in the beautiful Hotchner family home. So many wonderful memories of his life with his family were all tainted now by the thought of that monster walking through the house, murdering the only woman Aaron had ever loved. He’d done it with his son right there in the house, too. Jack was just four-years-old. Jack. Aaron realized he hadn’t yet checked to see if his son was safe. He’d told Jack to ‘work the case’, but would that have been enough?

 

Running, Hotch entered his old office, a room which he hadn’t been in since before the divorce. Luckily, the room was pretty much unchanged. Or at least the only part of the room that his eyes were focused upon. Jack had to be in that little storage chest. He _had_ to be. Opening the lid, the forty-three-year-old was able to breathe a sigh of relief, and immediately, Jack started speaking.

 

“I worked the case, Daddy, just like you said.”

 

“You did a great job, buddy,” Aaron replied in a near-whisper, lifting his son up and helping him out of the chest.

 

“What happened to you, Daddy?” he asked innocently.

 

“I’m okay,” Aaron replied, hoping the words would reassure the boy. He was still out of breath, though. He was _trying_ to be the best father he could, but in that moment, he knew that meant sending the boy off to be with someone who was less of a wreck. Aaron needed a moment free from that parental responsibility. “I want you to go outside with Miss Jareau, okay?” He was glad that she was there. She was a mother of a young boy too. He knew she could be trusted to take Jack at that moment.

 

“Come here, sweetheart,” she said as she pulled him into her arms, and Hotch and Reid both watched J.J. carry the boy away.

 

It was easy to be strong when Jack was in the room. His experience had been quite similar when Jack was visiting him in the hospital after he’d been stabbed. If his son was coming near, Hotch found himself pretending to be completely okay. It was an instinctual reaction, something that being a father required. But the moment the boy was gone… the need to let some tears out came back. All of the emotion did. So many emotions, he wasn’t even sure how many different things he was feeling all at once. He was heartbroken. Defeated. Still angry. Horribly frustrated and full of rage that any of this could have happened. He was mad at Foyet, mad at himself, mad at that U.S. Marshal Sam Kassmeyer and everyone else that could’ve and should’ve been able to prevent this. There was something positive in there too. Relief. That had to be the best word for it. Relief that his little boy was okay. Relief that the villain of this particular story was dead and gone. He knew Reid was still there, watching him, so he didn’t want to cry too much. He stopped himself. He needed to go to Haley.

 

 

Jennifer Jareau carried the young Jack Hotchner out of the house. It was a brisk thirty-seven degrees Farenheight, and the boy was only wearing short sleeves, so as quickly as she could, she got him inside one of the FBI vehicles.

 

“What happened?” Jack asked. He looked up into the blonde agent’s eyes and continued, “Where’s Mommy?”, and J.J. wasn’t sure how she should answer the boy. She didn’t want to do anything that might upset Hotch even more on this already unbelievably tragic day. But she didn’t feel right leaving the boy without an answer.

 

“You know the man who was in your house?” J.J. carefully began. She watched as Jack nodded. “He was a very, very bad man.” She hesitated, unsure of how she should proceed. So far, she had only reiterated what Jack already knew. She’d overheard the phone conversation when Hotch had told his son that George was a bad guy. But then Jack said something else.

 

“Did George kill my mommy?” he asked, and J.J. couldn’t see any alternative. She had to tell him the truth. She broke eye contact for a moment, trying to ground herself before breaking this awful news.

 

“I’m so sorry, sweetie, but yeah, he did.” She gently placed her hand on Jack’s shoulder. She took a deep breath, knowing that with children as young as this one, it was important to be clear and direct. “It’s really sad, I know. But yeah. Your mother is… dead.” She found it exceedingly difficult to say.

 

“Did George shoot her?” Jack then asked, and J.J. remembered how Jack must’ve heard the gunshots. Those things are scarily loud.

 

She nodded.

 

“Did my daddy kill him?”

 

J.J. hesitated. She didn’t want to betray Hotch in any way. Would Hotch want his son to know the truth? She wasn’t sure if she should answer that question. Luckily, she never had to. That moment ended up being interrupted when Emily opened the door of the SUV. They were taking Hotch to the hospital to make sure he wasn’t too badly injured, and to maybe stitch up the bad cut on the bridge of his nose.

 

 

When Jack and his father finally reunited, later that evening, Jack found out once and for all that George Foyet was dead, and yes, his daddy had killed him. Hotch didn’t want to lie to his son. But his son was too young to possibly understand all of the nuances of what had just transpired. He didn’t even know that he’d been in Witness Protection. He’d been fed a story about a temporary vacation, although it had lasted months, involved a new school and not seeing his father at all during that time period, and clearly wasn’t really a vacation at all. What Jack now understood was that his mother had been murdered by a man he had met, a man who’d introduced himself as ‘George’, and that his father had beaten the bad guy, just like a real life superhero. If someone were to ask this four-year-old how his mother had died, this would be his story, and it’d be so much simpler than anything his father might have to say.


	2. 2012

About two years after Haley’s death, Hotch first ran into Beth – or rather, she ran up to him. He knew that a whole two years prior to Haley’s death, he and Haley had gotten divorced, and now, it seemed the universe (or at least his friend Dave) was telling him that it was time to get back out there and try dating again. Or at least try _training_ with this woman who made him feel a little bit like a teenager again. They were both preparing for triathlons.

 

So Hotch came back from a case, called Beth, and found himself showing up the next morning, ready to bicycle side-by-side with her. One of the very first personal things she revealed about herself happened to be that her dad had died only a few months back, and Hotch found himself thinking of revealing that his son’s mother had also died right then and there, before their very first bike race even commenced. But he didn’t. He decided to wait. That kind of story was way too personal. And when he told another woman the story of what had happened to Haley, he wanted to really be ready. To plan it in advance. That was Aaron Hotchner’s way. He had to be prepared and do it carefully and only when the time was right. So he waited.

 

Sure enough, he and Beth hit it off. They trained together and also met up when they could for lunches over the course of a few weeks, and then they shared their first kiss on Valentine’s Day. The day of the triathlon arrived and finally Beth met Jack. Hotch was happier than he could remember being in ages. Everything in his life was starting to work out. But he couldn’t keep avoiding the story for much longer.

 

While out to eat at a fun Mexican restaurant one evening in the month of March, Beth casually mentioned to Aaron that she had been married for a whole decade before getting divorced from a man named Matthew. Aaron wasn’t surprised. A woman as delightful as Beth couldn’t have gotten to age forty like she had without having been married before. It wouldn’t have made sense. He realized, as she told him about her divorce, that this would probably be the best time for him to tell her about Haley.

 

“I was married before too,” Aaron began.

 

Beth looked up at him intently.

 

“I met Haley in high school, actually.” He smiled at the fond memory. “She was a few years younger than me.” He looked at Beth. Would she catch the subtle past tense reference? He continued with the story. “We got married right after she graduated college, and Jack was born after we’d been married for almost fifteen years,” Aaron commented. “Most of our friends assumed we weren’t planning on having children, but that wasn’t true.”

 

“You were just waiting for the right time?” Beth cautiously asked, curious.

 

“Exactly. It just took us longer than we expected to get there.”

 

“Matt and I stopped being in love,” Beth commented. “Is that what happened to you, too?”

 

Aaron shook his head. “No.” He still loved Haley, if he was being honest. “We…” he faltered, but Beth was wonderfully patient. “My job put a strain on our marriage,” he honestly explained. “Haley wanted the divorce. But I don’t think she ever stopped loving me.” Her sister Jessica certainly didn’t think so. And Aaron knew she’d never started dating anyone new.

 

“Oh,” Beth replied simply, fully listening.

 

“My job also cost her her life,” he added. It was an odd way to introduce that, but somehow, in that moment, it felt like the right way to say it. He was now avoiding making eye contact with Beth, so he didn’t notice her eyes go wide in shock.

 

“What do you mean?” she whispered.

 

“There was a… serial killer. He- George Foyet was his name. He enjoyed torturing victims, enjoyed the power, and he ended up choosing _me_ as a victim. It’s a really long story… but eventually, he… he was waiting for me in my apartment after a case, once.”

 

“Oh my God,” Beth breathed.

 

“He… stabbed me repeatedly until I passed out, and then drove me to a hospital, because he wanted to extend my torture.” Aaron tried to explain it as matter-of-factly as he could. He didn’t want to get emotional. “He’d stolen a specific page out of my address book, making it clear that Haley and Jack were in danger. That was his way of torturing me. They went into Witness Protection, but he… he found them. He killed her. I got there in time to kill him before he got to Jack.”

 

Beth was speechless.

 

“It’s been two years and four months since Haley’s death,” he finished, putting a timeframe on the story.

 

“I… I don’t know what to say, Aaron,” Beth quietly replied. “I’m so sorry. I never…” she trailed off.

 

Hotch wondered what she was going to say. She never would have guessed? She’d never experienced anything like that? She never had heard of anything so horrific? Probably all of the above.

 

She reached out her hand to gently touch his. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” she kindly commented. “I can’t imagine how difficult it is to talk about.”

 

Aaron smiled. “Thank _you_ ,” he said, “for… just being you.”

When they parted ways later that evening, for the first time Beth knew that Jack wasn’t with his mother, but rather his mother’s sister.

 

Hotch felt like George Foyet’s role in his life was an almost unbearably heavy secret he had to carry around with him. It was always nice to be around his team, because at those times, at least everyone knew. But it was also painful, because they knew too much. Around Jack, he usually could just focus on enjoying a moment with his son, but if thoughts about Haley came up, he usually felt the weight of it all as more crushing than ever. Hotch felt guilty and heartbroken and everything all over again, whenever he realized that the little boy would never have his mother.

 

But that night, as he lay in bed thinking about how he’d finally told Beth everything, he felt just the tiniest bit lighter, because Beth was now there to help lighten the burden for him.


	3. 2021

By the time Jack was sixteen-years-old, he was ready to know how his mother had died. Jack was ready to _really_ know, more than just a simple “she was murdered” explanation. Jack had realized years ago that he didn’t understand exactly what had happened. He had been so little when Haley had been taken from him, and at the time he’d been given an explanation that was good enough for a four-year-old. But he wasn’t a baby anymore. In fact, he was about to go on his first date – he’d asked a girl to the Homecoming dance at his school. He was growing up, and he decided it was about time to figure out what exactly had happened.

 

He knew, theoretically, it was possible for anyone to just get unlucky and be the target of a murderer. He knew that all too well, because he heard tragic tales about his father’s job all the time. Especially now that “Uncle” Dave was in retirement again, permanently this time - Jack heard stories all the time about how regular, everyday families suddenly became victims of horrific crimes.  


But he knew the situation with his mother was different. There were subtle clues his father and even his stepmother would give that made it fairly obvious that it was the BAU job that specifically had gotten Haley killed. Hotch was so careful to protect Jack and Beth in ways that Jack never understood - ways that no one else’s parents ever did. He stressed to Jack how certain bad men out there are scarily smart, and amazingly good at telling convincing lies. Hotch had the most insane security system set up in their home, the kind you’d use if you were paranoid that professional spies were going to try to break in. Aaron Hotchner had to be convinced by his wife to give his teenage son some extra freedom to do things outside of the house, to live his life like a normal kid, and Aaron realized she was right fairly quickly, but he never seemed completely comfortable with the idea. There were lots of little things like that, things where Hotch hadn’t fully realized how much his son had started to notice. Even the way Hotch treated his job indicated that he hated the harm it had done to his family, and he was determined to keep working until he felt more pride in all it had accomplished than... guilt? for what he’d let it cause. Jack saw the way his father looked at him the moment before leaving for a case. It seemed like Hotch was giving a silent promise, each and every time, that nothing bad would happen to him while his dad was out trying to stop the murderers, and especially not _because_ of what his dad was doing.

 

Jack saw how his father almost always wore long sleeves, even in the summer, and almost never took off his shirt, even when going swimming. Jack was aware this was because of all the scars he had from being stabbed. It was more than that, though, and Jack could tell that the scars had something to do with his mom. When Jack was younger, and he saw his dad’s scars in the privacy of their home, he’d ask about them. And the look the older Hotchner got in his eye… it was exactly the same look he always had when Jack would bring up his mother. Jack didn’t want to make his dad sad, so he tried to avoid talking about his mother too much. This carefulness extended to the scars too. There was just something about those scars that was connected to the whole thing. He vaguely knew his father had been stabbed, and that was how the scars had come to be. Jack had a memory of being really little and seeing his father covered in bandages in a hospital bed, then not seeing his father again until after his mother had died. He also remembered when he was in third grade and his dad had surgery again to cause more of the scars, and somehow it was all related to the initial wounds. But it was all blurry and confusing. He couldn’t remember much.

 

Jack just needed to decide who to get the story from. His first thought, of course, was to just ask his dad. His dad would answer him. His dad wanted Jack to feel comfortable asking any questions, especially about his mother. But Jack never did. He knew it made his dad so sad to bring up his mom. So he was reluctant to ask his father to relive the details of such a painful turning point in their lives.

 

He next considered Beth. His stepmother had never met his mother. His stepmother probably knew most of the story though, and she would be happy to help fill in some of the blanks for Jack.

 

However, Jack really wanted to know the whole story. He needed to ask someone who didn’t only know part of it. So he then considered who else he could ask. There were various members of his dad’s team who knew the truth. The men his dad always affectionately called by their last names only, Reid and Morgan, or even Emily who only came back to the states once a year or so… he’d feel pretty comfortable asking any of them. These people had been there as Jack grew up, his dad’s closest friends. He had a sort of cousin-like relationship with J.J.’s son, Henry, who was only a couple years younger than him, and he remembered that J.J. was the woman who had originally told him his mother was dead. That memory stuck in his mind; it was too significant to forget, even though it had happened when he was only four-years-old. And lastly, there was Uncle Dave. Jack knew him the best. He’d coached soccer practice with his dad, they’d shared many dinners together – Dave and his dad were best friends, and Dave didn’t have any family of his own left. The man was in his seventies already, and Jack felt about him the way some kids felt about their grandfathers.

 

So the teenager decided, one day after school, to head over to David Rossi’s mansion-sized home and ask the man the question he’d had burning inside of him for ages. When he arrived, his ‘uncle’ greeted him with a huge smile.

 

“Jack, my boy! What a surprise! Come on in. I have some homemade lasagna in the fridge from last night. Are you hungry?”

 

Jack smiled weakly. He knew what he was about to do would… change the mood.

 

“No, Uncle Dave. I’m not really hungry. I…” he trailed off as they both headed toward the couch. Jack sat down first, and Dave followed his lead.

 

“What’s on your mind, son?” Dave asked, gently. He always was an amazing profiler, and in this instance that meant he knew that Jack needed to talk about something serious.

 

“I… I just wanted to ask you to tell me… um, well… when my mom was murdered, what exactly happened?” Jack saw Dave’s facial expression change.

 

“Oh,” he replied solemnly. “What specifically do you want to know?” Dave asked.

 

“I want to know everything,” Jack answered. “Start at the beginning. Don’t leave anything out. Please,” he requested.

 

“Okay. Hmm… at the beginning.” Dave didn’t give more than a passing thought to whether Aaron would be okay with this. He knew the boy needed the answers. He deserved the whole story. It was a big part of this kid’s life.

 

Jack waited, trying to be patient. Finally, the man proceeded to tell the story.

 

“In 1998, there was a serial killer known as The Reaper. He had been killing people in the city of Boston by… horrifically… stabbing them to death.”

 

Rossi was trying to be sensitive about delivering this information to someone so innocent and young. Jack realized that his father had been stabbed, almost-to-death. Maybe this was the same guy. He kept listening, intently.

 

“It was your dad’s first case as ‘Lead Profiler’. But at one point the killings suddenly stopped, and the BAU was sent away. Ten years later, the lead detective on the case, Shaunessy, was on his deathbed and called up your father. He revealed why the killings had stopped – Shaunessy had made a deal with the devil – ‘If you stop hunting me, I’ll stop hunting them, till death do us part.’ This serial killer took a ten year break, because he was satisfied by knowing he could control the police enough to stop trying to catch a serial killer. That power was enough for him.”

 

Jack was starting to get the idea that this serial killer had attacked both of his parents. He was getting impatient, but didn’t want Dave to skip any important details, so he bit his tongue.

 

“When Shaunessy died, the killings started again, and those of us at the BAU were called back onto the case. The Reaper… he tried to make a deal with your dad, the same deal he’d made with Shaunessy. Your dad didn’t want to let a murderer get away with his horrific crimes. He didn’t take the deal. He was… he was doing his job. I completely support his decision.”

 

Jack eyed the man skeptically. Rossi was being awfully defensive of his father’s action there.

 

“I guess The Reaper kept killing?” Jack asked.

 

Dave gave a grim facial expression, closing his eyes and nodding slightly.

 

Jack knew his father well enough to guess that his dad probably felt somewhat guilty for not taking the deal.

 

“So this Reaper guy…” Jack pressed, hoping Dave would continue with the long explanation.

 

“Right,” Dave replied. “It turned out his name was George Foyet. We found him. We arrested him.”

 

Jack was surprised. This wasn’t the direction he was expecting the story to take. But wait… ‘George’…

 

“He escaped from prison. He… disappeared for a little while, then… attacked your dad.”

 

“Wait. How?” Jack asked.

 

“He was waiting for your dad inside his apartment one night when he got home. None of us could figure out how he got in.”

 

“And he tried to stab my dad to death?” Jack asked quietly, terrified just thinking about what must’ve happened.

 

“No,” Rossi answered. “He didn’t want your dad to die. He wanted to torture him as much as possible, so he inflicted a lot of physical pain with nine stab wounds, but he purposely avoided all of the major arteries. Foyet knew what he was doing. He also… made it clear that you and your mom were in danger.”

 

Jack wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it surprised him to hear he’d been in danger.

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, so you and your mom immediately went into the Witness Protection Program. To keep you safe.”

 

The gears turned quickly in Jack’s mind. The memory of seeing his dad in the hospital after being stabbed, then not seeing his dad for months… it all was becoming so much clearer. Things were making sense for the first time.

 

“But eventually, George Foyet... went to the house of the U.S. Marshal who was tasked with keeping you two safe,” Rossi continued. “He was way too clever, and called every contact on the guy’s phone, asking for ‘Haley’, waiting to hear your mom reply. He… tricked her, and lured her back to the house you had grown up in before the whole Witness Protection business.”

 

“George,” Jack softly commented, remembering vaguely that last day he’d spent with his mom.

Rossi saw the teenager’s focus was on that memory and gave him a moment.

 

“What do you remember?” he asked, gently.

 

“I heard the gunshots,” Jack said. “I know I did. My dad… My dad was on the phone and told me George was a bad guy. Asked me to work the case. I understood.”

 

“He wanted you to hide,” Dave commented, fondly remembering how that detail had worked out.

 

“And my mom hugged me really tight, and I never saw her again,” Jack said calmly. He realized then that he basically knew the whole story now. It was crazier than he’d ever expected. Everything made sense now. And his dad… he realized something else, too. “My dad killed George Foyet right there in our house, didn’t he?”

 

Dave nodded. “I know this is a lot to take in…”

 

“I’m okay,” the teenager replied. “Thank you for explaining. Really. I… I’m glad to finally know, if that makes any sense.”

 

“I get it,” Rossi replied. He shot the kid a smile. “You ready for some of that lasagna now?”

 

Jack laughed. “Sure.”


	4. 2039

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter for this fic. It was never meant to really “Go anywhere” interesting. This fic was just a very simple concept and I hope the lack of a twist doesn’t disappoint any of you. I hope to write another Criminal Minds fic soon. I love pretty much every character on the show, so I have a lot of different ideas. I think I could write something much more creative the next time. And you all had such a wonderful, positive reaction to this first Criminal Minds fic of mine that I really want to write another one for you guys as soon as I can.  
> I also don’t want to leave readers of my other ongoing fics for various other fandoms hanging, either though. So I’ll just try to write a lot more in general, for all of my fics. I probably won’t write as much as I want to, but… I’ll try. ;)
> 
> I want to ask a favor of you guys, though. I would love it if you checked out the[ podfic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5591770) I later made for this story, if you can. (A podfic is like an audiobook for a fanfiction story.)
> 
> Thank you, and if you do check it out, please let me know what you think of it! :P I also made a Haley/Hotch fanvideo that I embedded in the same post as where I posted the podfic. I'd love your opinion on that vid, too.

* * *

The pseudo-déjà vu was killing him, as the rain poured down outside the window. He looked across the room to see his wife -- the mother of their now four-year-old daughter -- fixing up their little girl’s hair. The girl was in a simple black dress, almost ready to leave for the funeral service. _His_ father had helped _him_ get ready for a funeral when he was exactly the same age. The weather had been eerily similar, too.

 

“There you go, Claire,” Julia said softly, letting go of the ribbon which was now tied. “Your hair is all set.”

 

“Do you think I look pretty, Mommy?” She looked down at her own outfit.

 

“Yes.” She forced a smile, despite her grief. “And I’m sure your grandmother would agree,” she added, barely audible.

 

Jack grabbed his daughter’s raincoat, and then helped her get her arms into the sleeves. Julia headed toward the closet by the front door, rummaging for an umbrella.

 

“Were you this sad when _your_ mommy died?” Claire asked, sincerely curious. She finished zipping up her coat herself and her dad put the hood over her head as he thought about how to answer.

 

“It was a really sad day,” he carefully explained. “Just like today will be really sad.” He was avoiding giving his daughter a straight answer, because he knew the truth was complicated. Julia’s mother had died of cancer, and it had been a sad year, really. She had always been a wonderful grandmother to Claire, and months ago Claire had had to face the harsh reality that her grandmother was too sick to play simple card games or give the preschooler any more baking lessons. Claire had found it hard to grasp the concept that sometimes when people are sick, they don’t get better. Jack remembered it being really hard for him to fully comprehend that his mother was hugging him, and then an hour later, she was “gone”. No one would even let him see her dead body, and so he was left feeling a bit confused. But he understood it well enough, soon enough, and he did feel really sad over his mother’s death. He’d even cried the day after it happened, once it had really sunk in that he would never see his mommy again.

 

Jack took his daughter’s hand and they walked over toward Julia.

 

“You ready?” he asked. She nodded.

 

As Jack drove his family to the church, he sat behind the steering wheel, wishing there was something he could do or say to make his wife feel better. He knew she felt like she shouldn’t be as sad as she _was_ , since she’d had time to prepare for this loss, and since her mother had lived a long life. Also, despite all of Jack’s reassurances that she could talk to him and that it was fine to feel whatever she was feeling, she still seemed to feel uncomfortable being open with him about her feelings, since she knew that Jack had lost his mother when he’d still been so young and had actually needed her, and her death had been sudden. He could tell she felt guilty for grieving at all, when what Jack had been through with his own mother was “worse”.

 

“You know,” he commented quietly, attempting to speak only to his wife (and not his daughter in the backseat), “I was heartbroken when Dave died, and he wasn’t even my dad. I can’t imagine how I’ll feel when…” he trailed off, sure it was obvious enough who he meant. Luckily, his own father was still alive and well.

 

“Daddy?” Claire’s voice started from behind her parents. “How did your mommy die? I know Mommy’s mommy was sick for a long time. Was yours too?”

 

Julia turned around, since she wasn’t the one driving, and reached back to touch her daughter’s knee.

 

“I know you have lots of questions, sweet pea, but maybe we can talk about this some other ti-”

 

“-No; it’s alright, honey,” Jack interjected. “Claire wants to know. We still have a few minutes left on the road. I might as well give her an answer.”

 

Jack couldn’t see it, but his daughter sat up straighter and opened her eyes wider in anticipation.

“Um, sweetie, you know how your Grandpa Hotch is a sort of special police officer?” (Julia’s father was ‘Grandpa Billy’, but Aaron’s friends had encouraged him to go with ‘Hotch’ as his differentiating grandparent name.)

 

She nodded as she replied, “Mmhmm.”

 

“Well his job was to track down bad guys. Sometimes bad guys who … killed people. It’s called murder, and it’s the worst crime anyone can commit.”

 

“Your mommy was murdered?” his daughter asked breathlessly.

 

“Yeah, Claire, she was.” When he was just about her age, but he’d never tell her that. He didn’t want to scare her. Jack knew he and Julia weren’t going _anywhere_. He made a turn into the parking lot, realizing they were reaching their destination. “But I don’t want you to worry, because murder is really rare. For example, your Mommy has never lost anyone to murder, and she’s lived a long time. Right?” he asked for affirmation, turning to his wife for a second before continuing to look for a good parking space.

 

“Right,” she replied.

 

“Okay,” Claire said.

 

And that was that. They went into the church, meeting up with Grandpa Hotch, who hugged his daughter-in-law and expressed sympathy for her loss. Jack took a seat between his daughter and his wife, wanting to shield Claire from seeing as many of Julia’s tears as he could. The tribute to a woman’s life well lived was beautiful, and as the woman was not only Julia’s mother, but also a mother to two siblings of Julia’s, there were so many mentions of how wonderful she had been in her role of a parent. Jack wondered what it would have been like if he’d experienced having a mother in that way, but he thought about his father, who had white hair now and was sitting only a couple rows behind him, and knew he didn’t really wish his life had been different in any way. His father had done a perfect job raising him, and he’d had a step-mother too, and a wonderful ‘uncle’, and now he had a beautiful wife and daughter.

 

Death was a part of life, and he was sad that his daughter had been forced to learn that fact when still so young. However, he knew better than anyone that sometimes circumstances force four-year-olds to be sitting in the front row at funeral services, and that four-year-olds can handle it, probably becoming just a bit stronger and wiser for the experience.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the couple continunity errors I might've made in the original writing of the story that I've only now noticed. Jack was too young at age 4 to be in school (as mentioned in ch 1, although I guess he could be in preschool), and we do see in the art for chapter 2 that Aaron isn't, as I say in chapter 3, unable to wear short sleeves... but just... forgive these problems. This was the first CM fic I ever wrote.


End file.
